


Kids Who Lost Our Way

by FoxCollector



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hashirama's inability to tell a story consistently, In a way, Love, Sadness, Sort of a character study, Why Did I Write This?, a sad thing, guys the whole thing is sad, poor Hashirama, so i wrote a thing, this got dark, ugly wooden figures, wood style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-22 15:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11970117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxCollector/pseuds/FoxCollector
Summary: When Butsuma is away, Hashirama always has his brothers sleep in his room. It’s the only way he knows he can protect them when he’s in charge.He also likes to try and make them as happy as he can.He likes the way Kawarama looks at him like he’s his hero, and he likes to see Tobirama look so calm, holding Itama against his chest because even though Itama is old enough to sit by himself he always climbs up and Tobirama never turns him away.This is what he lives for.





	Kids Who Lost Our Way

**Author's Note:**

> Well, so I wrote this. This will be the first thing I post in my fic dump, so that anyone who reads it and gets sad can read something else and be happy! 
> 
> I mean, honestly, I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this, I must have been in a very sad place. When I opened the document to edit it again, I found I had made a note at the top of the page that just said "WHY DID I WRITE THIS??". I feel like that sums things up pretty well.
> 
> It all came from a conversation with my brother (who I may just refer to as 'me bro' in future because I always tell him I'm going to do that one day) about whether or not Hashirama would make wooden figures for his brothers to play with, and then I sat down to write that and everything got sad. Should have stopped after the opening.
> 
> Read, enjoy, review. If you can.

            It takes a while for Hashirama to really get used to his wood style.

            In the beginning, he’d felt like he could do anything; a whole world full of potential opened up before him. He’d thought for sure he’d be able to protect his brothers, his whole family even, from anyone who tried to hurt them.

            It doesn't feel like a gift when his father tells him what he expects of him.

            It's a weapon, and it’s hard to control, and that makes it dangerous to try around his family. So he goes alone, tries his hardest, and trains until he can't move so that he can manipulate the size, and make tiny trees instead of giant ones, and little figures, and roots that spiral up to wrap around the ankles of the Clan Elders. It isn’t all that impressive, but it has more to do with a lack of refinement than anything else and it’s better than destroying their house.

            It always seems odd to him that creation is so violent, that he can create life just to end other lives. His wood style is deadly, and Hashirama doesn't want the only thing that really makes him special to be death.

            Sometimes it's nice to grow trees just because he can. To try and plant something in the earth that will grow and not decay.

            Right from before he’s even old enough to fight more than defensive battles he is left in charge of things while his father goes to lead in the larger scale conficts. His father wants him to learn now, get used to being in charge, because it’s always possible he won’t come home, and then Hashirama will be left to run the household. It’s a thought that’s preyed on his mind since he was old enough to understand. He’s terrified that he’ll mess up. Thankfully, his older cousin Touka helps him out as much as she can. She always seems bitter, even while she so obviously cares. He knows she wants to fight, but no one will let her. He's grateful all the same. He is much too young to take care of three little brothers, all of whom want his attention all at once. Tobirama at least tries to help too, but sometimes he needs just as much supervision as Kawarama and Itama. At least both younger brothers listen to him, even when they don’t listen to Hashirama.

            Hashirama is always more than happy to give them all of his attention though, and when Touka retreats after dinner to do whatever it is she does that Hashirama pretends he doesn’t know is training, he sets up with his brothers in his room.

            When Butsuma is away, Hashirama always has his brothers sleep in his room. It’s the only way he knows he can protect them when he’s in charge.

            He also likes to try and make them as happy as he can.

            He likes the way Kawarama looks at him like he’s his hero, and he likes to see Tobirama look so calm, holding Itama against his chest because even though Itama is old enough to sit by himself he always climbs up and Tobirama never turns him away.

            This is what he lives for.

            He always tries to find ways to entertain his brothers when they’re sitting in the dark wondering if their father will come home. It’s gotten a little harder since Kawarama learned to speak, because now he can understand what’s going on and suddenly he has questions that Hashirama can’t answer.

            Usually he tries to tell a story, he knows a few, even if Tobirama always points out when he changes things. But it would be boring if he always told it the same way, so he tries to make things bigger and better.

            Tonight, he decides to see what else he can do. He decides to try and make figures to go with his story. He tries to craft the figures carefully, but it’s hard, and in the end the old bamboo cutter looks the same as the five princes, but no one really seems to mind too much, not even Tobirama.

            Kawarama keeps squirming, because he wants to get his hands on the princes, even though Hashirama isn’t done telling the story yet. He asks him to make a sword for the prince who has to find the dragon’s jewel, because in Hashirama’s version, he finds the dragon and slays it to save a village and then decides to live there to protect the villagers. His dragon is…laughable, but Kawarama doesn’t laugh, he’s too excited with the new figures.

            This version might be the most fantastical one yet, but for once Tobirama doesn’t complain, even when Hashirama decides that the prince tasked to find the swallow’s cowry shell heals from his injuries and decides to raise swallows and live in a nest with them.

            Afterwards, he lets his brothers play with the small wooden lumps, on the condition that Kawarama keep them out of his mouth. He does, if only because Tobirama watches him like a hawk. Kawarama takes the small lumpy princes and sets them up in a five-way fight to the death and it makes Hashirama sad.

            He’s too young to be thinking about that.

            Itama gets his hands on the dragon and natters on about how cool a real dragon would be, mostly because he likes to hear himself speak, but also possibly to involve Tobirama. It’s sweet, and it makes Hashirama wish he had that innocence again. Itama gives Tobirama the princess so he won’t feel left out, and he makes the dragon fly circles around the princess for no real reason.

            The princess is possibly the best piece. Hashirama tried really hard on her, since the story was about her really. He tried to make her look like their mother, because that’s what his idea of beauty is right now. The little princess sits in Tobirama’s hand, tolerating being circled by an overly talkative dragon. It’s adorable, and Hashirama wants to remember this forever.

            Hashirama keeps the Emperor for himself. No one else wanted him anyway. He sets the Emperor to battle the dragon just because Itama decides that the dragon wants to destroy everything, but unfortunately, his little figures aren’t very sturdy, and the Emperor’s head comes off in his hands.

            Itama’s eyes go wide for a second and then tears begin to leak out. “I didn’t mean to kill the Emperor,” he says. He clutches his dragon to his chest.

            “No, no! It’s fine! Because the Emperor took the Immortality Potion!” Hashirama says.

            “No, he didn’t,” Kawarama says. He stops his five-way battle to poke at the Emperor’s head on the floor.

            Itama buries his face in Tobirama’s shoulder and cries louder.

            “Sure he did! He just took a bit though, and threw the rest out!” Hashirama insists. He scoops up the Emperor’s head and attempts to re-attach it.

            “He took enough to survive being beheaded?” Kawarama looks skeptical.

            Kawarama should not know that word yet. Tobirama scolds him until Hashirama interrupts.

            “Of course! What kind of Emperor would he be if he let dragons push him around?” Hashirama laughs.

            Itama is almost going for it. His tears have stopped, but his eyes are fixed on the figure in Hashirama’s hands.

            Hashirama tries to connect the two pieces with more wood. It works, except that now the Emperor has a scary long neck.

            “Now he’s a monster!” Kawarama says. He picks up one of his princes and holds him out to fight the monstrous Emperor.

            Itama looks somewhere between horrified and relieved. “I made him a monster?”

            “But he’s okay!” Hashirama says.

            The Emperor dodges Kawarama’s prince’s assault to fly over to Itama.

            Itama reaches out one hand and takes the figure carefully, setting down his dragon.

            “Is he too scary for the princess to love now?” Itama asks Tobirama.

            The Emperor’s long neck is bent just slightly, so that when Itama holds the figure up to his brother, it almost touches Tobirama’s nose.

            “Of course not. A real princess would love anyone brave enough to save her from a dragon,” Tobirama says. He brings up the princess just so he can tip her towards the Emperor.

            “Even if he could hug her with his neck?” Itama asks. He looks puzzled and Hashirama wants to pinch his cheeks.

            Tobirama makes a face, eying the Emperor’s long neck for a moment. “Of course.”

            “But my prince could slay a dragon and keep his head on, so the princess should love him instead,” Kawarama says. He brings the prince over to where the Emperor is towering over the princess.

            “But the Emperor gives better hugs.” Hashirama snickers.

            Tobirama frowns at him and Hashirama wants to pinch his cheeks too.

            “I like him.” Itama nods decisively. “I bet he can see over trees and warn his friends if there are other dragons.”

            “And then my prince can slay them!” Kawarama says.

            “Yeah!” Itama makes the Emperor fly around, like he’d done with the dragon.

            Kawarama insists that the Emperor can’t fly, but Tobirama just watches, one hand making sure Itama doesn’t lose his balance and fall off his lap, and the other hand clutching the tiny princess figure.

            They play around for a while, until Itama starts to fall asleep, and then it’s bed time. Hashirama is immensely pleased when his brothers all keep their awful figures with them when they crawl into bed, even Tobirama, despite his apparent lack of interest in playing around.

            It’s a memory Hashirama treasures.

 

            He tries to make better figures for his brothers when he learns better control, but by the time he can make a proper prince, Kawarama is dead.

            He sneaks to his brother’s grave in the night to leave the tiny prince in the dirt, and then he goes back home to a hole in his household.

            He gives Itama a tiny Emperor to try and bring a smile to his face, and it almost works. Itama puts it with the awful looking long-necked monster that he keeps by his pillow. The poor Emperor has bandages wrapped around his neck after it was broken again (and subsequently grew a bit longer).

            Later he buries the Emperor with Itama and part of his heart.

            He gives Tobirama a perfect princess for his sixteenth birthday. Mostly because stress shows heavy around his eyes and Hashirama hates it.

            Tobirama turns the princess over in his hands and gives him a flat look. “I like the other one better.”

            Hashirama just about falls over. “But – but, this one is so much prettier!”

            “The other one is nicer.” Tobirama turns his nose up. But he pockets the tiny figure so Hashirama counts it as a win.

            The other princess is worn and scarred, but she’s kept on Tobirama’s desk, next to a pile of scrolls. The new princess goes with Tobirama’s books, because she would apparently be in the way on his desk.

            Hashirama hopes he never has to put a tiny princess on Tobirama’s grave.

 

            He overcompensates and gives Tobirama another princess on his eighteenth birthday.

            Tobirama’s eye twitches. “I’m a little old for princesses.”

            “You’re exactly the right age for princesses!” Hashirama winks, giving his brother a thumbs-up.

            “No thanks,” Tobirama says flatly. But he takes the princess and sticks her on top of his wardrobe.

 

            Later on, Hashirama will marry a princess, and she’ll be even more beautiful than anything he ever tried to dream of for the tiny figures he makes. He’ll give her a wooden cat, and the way her cheeks colour in delight will make his heart flutter.

 

            He can never thank Touka enough for all that she’s done for him, but he always tries anyway. She has a great deal of freedom during his time as clan head, and she deserves it. He gives her a small bear when he’s thirteen and she’s sixteen. She calls him a dork, but she keeps the figure by her armour and it stays there.

 

            When he finally defeats Madara, and Madara gives him an ultimatum, he feels a bit like the Emperor. He’ll gladly lose his head if it means he can keep the princess safe from the dragon.

            Tobirama would kill him if he knew he’d referred to him as a princess, but it doesn’t matter.

            Thankfully Madara reattaches his head, or rather, never lets it fall off, and he finally has peace.

            He gives Madara a small dragon for his birthday, and the look on his face is very much worth it.

            He gives Tobirama _another_ princess, jokes that he’ll keep giving him princesses until he finds a real one.

            It’s meant as a joke, but Tobirama gets angry with him and leaves.

            It isn’t hard to find him. Hashirama knows his brother, might not always understand him, though he’s getting better, but he knows Tobirama’s habits.

            He sits down next to Tobirama at the edge of the lake. Tobirama has one foot in the water, and he’s staring up at the moon. In his hands is the tiny, ugly princess from so many years ago.

            “You know, it’s okay if _you_ want to be the princess,” Hashirama tells him. And he means it. He doesn’t care if Tobirama has a ten foot neck, he’ll love him all the same.

            Tobirama pushes him into the water, but it’s worth it for the small smile on his face. And Hashirama gets even by pulling him in, even though it’s a terrible idea to dump someone as proficient in water style as Tobirama into a body of water. When he returns to Mito dripping wet in the middle of the night, she laughs at him, and it makes him remember all the reasons he loves her. Loves when she shows him that side of herself so carefully hidden from public view. It makes him hug her just to soak her so he can laugh at her too.

            Hashirama treasures the memories of his family. But there's nothing more important than his dream. If he can keep everyone safe, then everything will have been worth it.

 

            Hashirama kills Madara.

            He tells himself he has to, and it isn’t a complete lie.

            There’s an old voice in his head, telling him he should have tried harder, but he buries it under an edge of righteousness, hiding it behind justifications so deep and hollow they make his chest ache. He loses another part of his heart, and it feels like there isn’t much left. He almost doesn’t recognize himself sometimes.

            At night, he thinks to himself that the old him never would have let that happen, and where did he go wrong? He’s always worn his ideals, his beliefs, like a badge on his sleeve, but inside it’s different. Inside, somehow, it's all twisted up. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, not after a lifetime of fighting wars he never truly understood. But there’s a darkness in him that’s stifling.

            When did it change? When did he stop putting his family, his loved ones, over his dream? Had he ever truly weighed them and found one to be worth more than the other? Madara had. Somehow they had come up with different answers. Maybe it used to be that they were one and the same, but now they aren’t. Maybe he'd always just assumed that everyone else wanted the same things as he did, and he just can’t deal with the fact that they don’t.

            He gazes at Mito’s sleeping form and wonders if she’s noticed the practical, cold thing slowly sliding into her husband’s skin. He loves her so much it hurts sometimes, but there’s something foul wriggling in his chest that tells him he would kill her if he had to. That he would kill Tobirama too.

            And that?

            That makes him sick.

            It makes him throw himself in harm’s way, to try and get that darkness out by the tip of the enemy’s blade.

 

            When all is said and done, Hashirama wonders what the point of it was. What good did he ever do with his wood style? Did he bring life, or only take it away? He thinks maybe he’d shed more blood than anything else. But then, he can see the smiles on his little brothers’ faces when they’d played with his awful lumpy figures. And he can see the amused confusion on Madara’s face when he turned the dragon over in his hands, and the way Mito smiled with genuine delight when he gave her the tiny cat. Touka with her tiny bear and the way she kept it safe and hidden, and then Tobirama, with his tiny army of princesses, and even if he pretends he doesn’t want another one, he always finds a place for it.

            He wonders if he’s the old bamboo cutter, or maybe another one of the princes. He’s never saved a figure for himself.

            And Hashirama realizes that all he’s ever really wanted to use his wood style for is love. And to protect the ones he loves. He might regret blood spilled, but he will never regret keeping those most precious to him safe. And that should always have been his priority. He knows he's made mistakes, but he likes to think that he didn't let everyone down.

            And that, at least, is a comforting thought as his blood cools upon the ground.

            He can’t hear Tobirama even though he can see that his brother is yelling, but at least Tobirama is safe. And Mito is safe. Everyone is safe.

            And soon he’ll be with Kawarama and Itama and Madara.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I have a lot of feelings about Hashirama, only some of which were touched on here. I’m going to have to do a more in-depth thing for him, because I didn’t get to go into some of the aspects of his character that I find most interesting. I mean, on the one hand, it would round this out a bit, but on the other hand, things would be darker, this would be way longer, and there wouldn’t be as much focus on his relationship with his brothers – barring maybe Tobirama. And I wanted to write about his brothers specifically, so I ended up excluding some stuff. And yes, I love Hashirama, so I don't know why I did this.


End file.
